


Butterflies and Hurricanes

by mieraspeller



Series: Arranged Marriage AU [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mieraspeller/pseuds/mieraspeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you trust that your people would honor an alliance between us?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies and Hurricanes

“They’re all high as kites out there, we’ll never get a better time,” Octavia says as she quickly unties him, handing over the clothes. 

“They’ll know you helped me,” is all Lincoln says, as he carefully pulls on the clothes. 

“I don’t care. I'm not helping you escape just to have you freeze to death. Come on.” 

They make it out without being spotted, though Finn gives her a strangely lucid look as they duck out of camp. Once they’re far enough out, Octavia relays what she heard to Lincoln, looking at him anxiously. His hand is still a mess from what Bellamy did, and she knows the bruises on his face and chest are still tender and swollen. She can’t imagine wanting peace if she was in his place, but he looks thoughtful. 

“Do you trust that your people would honor an alliance between us?"

She snorts. “I’m not the best person to ask. The only people I spoke with on the Ark were my mother and brother. But… honestly, we need you more than your people need us. They’d be stupid not to take your help, and I know that the Chancellor isn’t stupid, for all his other faults.” 

Lincoln nods solemnly. “I’ll talk to my heda and find a way to send you a message. But with the guns that your leaders went after today -- “ he breaks off, shrugs, wincing as it tugs at his bruised torso. 

“Okay.” Even though nothing is really decided yet, Octavia can’t help but feel some relief. At least she’s not in this alone. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you for helping me escape,” he says, and this time when he pulls her into a kiss she gives as good as she gets. 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a long walk in the snow back to Anya’s encampment, but it’s almost worth the pain in his hand to see the look on Gunnar’s face when he’s stopped by the watch. 

“You’re alive?” 

Lincoln raises his eyebrows. Obviously. 

“I’ll get Heda Anya,” Gunnar’s watch partner says quickly, and races back towards camp. Gunnar looks Lincoln up and down disapprovingly. Lincoln stiffens his knees and straightens his spine reflexively. His uncle likes to take things like wanting to sit after a trek through the woods in the snow while wounded as weakness. 

“Did you at least learn something of these Skypeople?” Gunnar asks, eyes back on the trees. 

Did he? He learned that the Commander’s source told the truth - the camp was full of children and petty criminals. But they had guns and a ruthless leader. He nods, and holds back a smile as Gunnar’s jaw clenches. 

Before anything more can be exchanged, Anya comes marching out of camp, followed by her second, Tris. 

She almost misses a step when she sees the bruises on him -- he’s known her long enough to notice, even if no one else would -- and she barks out an order for Tris to prepare a space in her tent for him. 

“Gunnar,” Anya says, with a short nod, then glares at Lincoln before she jerks her head back to camp. “Follow.” 

Lincoln follows. He keeps his face passive and steady as the pass through the camp, meeting the curious gazes calmly, before ducking into Anya’s tent after her. There he can let his guard down a bit, and he allows a slight grimace of pain. A moment later Nyko is pushing the tent flap aside. 

“Congratulations on not dying,” he says gruffly, looking him over judgingly. “Your hand?” 

Lincoln holds it out obediently and clenches his teeth as the cloth is unwound from the wound. 

“They got you good. You’ll be lucky if you can hold a stick of charcoal again.” 

At that Anya loses her calm face. "The commander had plans to ally with these --" Anya breaks off with a snarl as Lincoln lets out a grunt of pain. 

"Do they know nothing of torture?" Nyko asks absently, sounding entirely unsympathetic as he prods at the hole gouged in Lincoln's palm.

 

"They are mostly children. Even the older ones have no training or dis-discipline." Lincoln grits his teeth as Nyko stuffs a poultice against the wound and binds it close.

"The Commander claims her source said they want peace, but either they were lying, or these _children_ are stupid as well as untrained." Anya ceases her pacing to crouch down next to the two men, prodding urgently at the bruises on Lincoln's face. "She says that they have two thousand more coming to join this group and more than half that can fight. Though if their fighting is anything like these-"

"Guns, heda. Guns." Nyko says it longsufferingly, and Lincoln has the feeling that this has been a long standing argument.

Anya makes another angry noise. 

"From what I heard in the camp, these are the Sky People's child criminals. Their people sent them ahead to either prepare the ground, or to die. Octavia -"

"Octavia!" Nyko says, despairingly. "Not Octavia again. You save her life and her people torture you. Not a good basis for a relationship, my friend."

" _Octavia_ helped me escape. Their leaders wants peace, even if her brother doesn’t.”

“That certainly explains a few things,” Nyko murmurs. He gives the poultice on Lincoln’s hand a look. “Do _not_ remove that until I say,” he says, then stands. “Your ribs will heal in time, just don’t overdo it.” 

“Muchof,” Lincoln says, and Anya hauls him to his feet. “And it’s true. They do want an alliance. Their leader, Jaha, spoke to their healer-leader Clarke about it. They have warriors, guns, tech like the mountain men do. We could use their help.” 

Anya scoffs. “If the Commander wants to ally with such a people, who am I to argue.” 

Lincoln gives her a wry grin. “The Commander will want your opinion, as she always does.” 

“Well, _I_ want you to eat, drink and rest until at least midday,” Nyko breaks in. He slings his pack over his shoulder and points sternly at Lincoln’s bedroll. “Healer’s orders.” 

Nyko takes his leave, and Anya settles cross legged on her own bedroll as Lincoln tries to make himself comfortable. 

“Do you think it’s worth it?” she asks. Lincoln doesn’t pretend not to know what she means. 

After a moment he nods. “I think they can help us, in more ways than just fighting the mountain. They have tech that we’ve lost, and they have one good healer here, and more in their Ark.” 

“Lexa thinks if we defeat the mountain, the Alliance of the Twelve Clans will break. I think she’s right.” Anya pulls out her small knife and starts cleaning her nails. “If we lose our common enemy, then the Ice Nation Queen will break with us, and try again to expand her lands. Others will leave after she does.” 

“So you think we should make the Skypeople a new enemy?” Lincoln asks carefully. Anya snorts. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” 

“No. I think it would be better for us if the Skypeople were indebted to the Trikru. That our people become one, and then maybe we’ll be strong enough to fight the Ice Nation. Or at least be strong enough for them to not want to risk breaking the Alliance and finding out how strong we are.” He looks back at Anya, who looks reluctantly intrigued by the picture he’s painted. 

“It could all come to nothing,” she says, but she sounds hopeful, this time. 

Lincoln nods, shrugs and winces when he jars his ribs. “Maybe it won’t.” 

 

 

When Octavia next is able to sneak out of the camp, Lincoln has news. 

“Our Heda has agreed to peace talks with your people,” he tells her, smiling hopefully. Octavia grins and jumps up to pull him into a kiss. He stops them before they can go as far as she would like, asking, “Will your leaders be ready by dawn?”

Octavia looks down and away, pulling back from Lincoln. “Well… I haven’t actually told them anything more, yet.” When Lincoln just stares at her, incredulous, she says quickly, “But Bell and Clarke aren’t stupid, they know we need your help here! It’ll work out, even if I have to bang a few heads together.” 

That got her a rueful smile. “When do you need to be back?” Lincoln asks, and Octavia grins. 

“Moonrise, before shift change.” She scoots closer to him, prepared to be as careful as she needs to of his wounds. But he stands gingerly, and takes his sword from where it hangs on the cave wall. 

“We should practice.” 

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” Octavia sighs, but she enjoys learning how to fight - maybe not as much as kissing, but it’s a close second, so she jumps up and gets into position without arguing. Lincoln doesn’t say it, but she knows he’s thinking the same thing she is -- in case our people won’t see reason.

 

 

 

Octavia gets back into camp without issue, and as much as she would like to track down Miller and her brother and give them hell about their lax guard schedule, she knows she needs to talk to Clarke first. 

Unfortunately, when she wakes Clarke, she insists on involving Bellamy, as well. Octavia groans and reluctantly relates the whole of it - Lincoln, a possible Alliance, even Wells and Charlotte being alive and in Grounder custody. It’s silent for a long moment as they both process, and then...

“You what?!” Bellamy demands, sounding strangled. 

“Wells is alive?” Clarke says over him, voice shaky with hope. Octavia nods. 

“They captured them to get information on us, and when they found out Wells was the Chancellor’s son…” 

“And they definitely speak English? How many are there? Do you have an idea of how advanced their weaponry is -” 

“Clarke!” Bellamy and Octavia both say. Then Bellamy crosses his arms and glares at her. “So, you let our prisoner go, then went behind our backs to make some deal with him? Oh, and lied about him understanding us. Octavia, we are fighting --” 

“That’s the damn point, Bell! We don’t have to fight them. Lincoln’s leader is going to meet us at dawn at the bridge -- he’ll lead us there -- to discuss an Alliance. I know you talked to Jaha about the Trikru - call him back and tell him we can make peace with him, and that his son is alive!” 

Clarke looks at Bellamy and they do that silent communication thing they they’ve had ever since the whole thing with Charlotte happened, and Octavia sighs in frustration. “Fine. Don’t take our best chance at survival. I did what I had to, if you guys can’t understand that, then I don’t know how either of you can call yourselves leaders.” She turns to leave, but Clarke steps forward. 

“You’re right. It’s just seems… too good to be true.” She smiles while Bellamy snorts and rolls his eyes. “We’ll contact the Ark. Did you want to stay here and listen in? You can provide more insight on the grounders if the Chancellor has questions.” 

Octavia hesitates, cutting a glance over to her brother, who manages to nod.

“She’s right. I don’t like that you did this without saying anything, but ... “ he looks out and Octavia follows his gaze to the snow that they’ve already grown disenchanted with falls. “You may have saved all our asses. You should stay.” 

Clarke is already yelling for someone to set up the video feed -- the girl is still hopeless with technology -- and the camp is starting to stir as the sun comes up over the trees, and for the first time since they hit the ground, Octavia feels like she’s done something important. More than being the first off the drop ship, or the first to almost die by Earth, but something real and something only she could do. 

She nods. “Yeah. I’ll stay. I don’t want you guys to mess it up after I did all the hard work,” she smirks at her brother and he lets out a put upon sigh, then pulls her into a hug. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see who’s doing hard work when I make up the chore roster for the day.” 

“Hey!” Octavia pulls away and aims a punch at him, which he manages to dodge. 

“Those latrines have to get dug somehow, sis,” Bellamy says, jumping over a pile of thick cables and rounding Clarke so Octavia can’t get at him. 

“They’re getting Jaha, shouldn’t be more than a minute. There’s a fifteen second delay,” Monty says, and Clarke gives them both a quelling look. 

“Let me do the talking,” she says to Bellamy. “He’s still --” The screen abruptly crackles to life and they all jump. A second later, Chancellor Jaha is on the screen. 

“Clarke?” 

“Sir,” she says, with a slight smile. “Octavia may have solved our grounder problem. They want to have a meeting to discuss an alliance. And we have other news… Wells. He’s alive.” 

Jaha sits back abruptly. “My son… is alive?” 

“He’s not here, the grounders have him, but they’re willing to make peace - possibly even help us through the winter.” 

“That is… excellent news,” he says, obviously regaining his equilibrium. “Our technicians have a pretty good list of what we’ll need when we get to Earth -- so what can we offer them in exchange?” 

Clarke looks at Octavia, before offering her the seat. She sits gingerly, starts when Bellamy puts a supportive hand on her arm, and tells him what she knows. 


End file.
